The sun was low in the sky as they drove out of the city. They cranked up the music, still playing the mix from earlier. Dean sang along now, loud and still somewhat off-key at times. Cas laughed at some of his more hearty attempts at musical fortitude. Cas sang just as loud as Dean, but much more on-key. They rocked through "Bohemian Rhapsody," and threw in the head banging for good measure. It is patently impossible for anyone to hear that song and not do the head banging, Dean had claimed. They got more and more into the country and Cas wasn't even feeling the usual onset of nerves that came from dealing with family gatherings and dinner parties. This one was different. This one was just Dean's family, and that felt okay.
They turned down the driveway and could already see in the distance a pickup truck parked near the fence. "Guess dad decided to take the country vehicle." Dean got out of the car once Cas parked it behind the truck.
"That's a big truck," Cas commented as they made their way up the porch steps.
"Be glad that it is. I am going to convince my dad that he needs to let me borrow the truck so that we can move your stuff." Dean opened the screen door and motioned Cas through. "Age before beauty."
"Every Goddamn time with you, Winchester." Cas walked through anyway. "I'm not that much older than you. Like one year tops."
"Ha, you're just bitter." They could hear the peals of laughter coming from the dining room. Everyone was already seated, but they were just sipping on wine.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," John said with a wave of his wine glass. "Glad you both could make it."
Chuck chimed in, "Yeah, I should have told you that dinner started at 5:00 to guarantee a 6:00 return time." He turned back to John and added, "I swear my boy's late to everything."
"So not true. I am actually quite punctual." Dean was already at the table planting a kiss on his mom's cheek as he reached over her shoulder to grab a wine glass for himself. Cas went on, "I have never been late for a business meeting."
"True. You just make tardy appearances at all of the dinner parties that we host. Starting to think you are a little diva that needs to make a noticeable entrance or something." Chuck's grin reached his eyes. Cas wrinkled up his nose at the so not apt description of his arrivals. Dean snort laughed and tried to suppress it. Cas made his way to the other end of the table and sat across from Dean, next to his mom, who was at the head of the table.
"We're just glad you two got back before the food got cold," Becky offered. "So, we all ready to dig in?" She was greeted with a resounding yes from everyone at the table.
"This is awesome," Dean said around a mouthful of herb roasted chicken. It was Becky's signature dish, the one she would make whenever she was trying to impress someone. It was also the dish that she enjoyed making with Chuck. Cas would often see them together in the kitchen working together in some sort of seamless dance around pots and pans on the stove. Sometimes Chuck would drape himself over her shoulder, his chest to her back as he stirred the risotto while she turned the chicken on the stovetop grill. It was one of those memories that he cherished, one that created in his head the very definition of what love looked like. It wasn't groping teenagers or moonlit walks on the beach, to be true, those were great, but love, real love was the thing that lasted past all of that. It was moments years down the path of children, sleepless nights, loving and losing and crying and singing. It was the moments, when even after so much time had passed, that you just can't help but lean into the other person and breathe them in, because it is the only way to be closer to them.
"You and dad should be required to make this meal way more often." Cas added his two cents to Dean's declaration.
"You two are too kind. Your dad did the hard part. I never get the risotto just right. The one and only time I did it on my own, it turned out gummy." She threw a smile at Chuck. "Also, thanks Cas for volunteering to read the Lucy manuscript. I know what a sacrifice that is."
"Oh, it's all good. I already finished Charlie's first draft, so this should only take several years to slog through." He smiled at her and almost laughed.
John jumped in, "So, any spoilers for us on the Bradbury piece you read?"
"Oh, no way. You get it with the rest of the masses. Charlie would kill me. I can say though that it is completely worth the wait. It was the best one in the series." Cas gave John a knowing look.
"You are trying to tell me more, aren't you? Al isn't dead, is he?" John was practically leaning into his plate, his chest dangerously close to contact with his food. Mary reached over and created a barrier with her hand.
"I'm not saying a word." Cas turned his gaze back to his meal.
"Ahha, I'm right. Goddamn Al, that bastard. How did he survive? I mean there is no way, right?" John was getting all worked up in his tone. Everyone at the table was grinning at his enthusiasm. Mary leaned into his ear and whispered something. "Oh, I didn't mean to break out the language at the table. Guess I felt a little too comfortable."
Chuck reached over and gave him a little slap on the back. "Well, shit John. That's just Charlie's magic. She makes you want to cuss up a blue streak one minute and cry in your soup in the next. Gotta love that girl."
John settled down a little and stopped looking like he was going to bound off at the next available opportunity into the land of Bradbury speculations. It was endearing, Cas thought, to be so in love with a series. The talk ran the gamut of all things sensible in a polite dinner party. Chuck and John seemed to get along quite well. Nothing too out of the ordinary there, since Chuck got along with everyone. Cas threw careful glances to Dean every few minutes, but they didn't talk to each other directly. A few times, Dean was looking back. They seemed to share a few silent conversations as the rest of the table ran down the various avenues of words.
Chuck got up at one point and brought over a tiramisu in a casserole pan. John leaned back in his chair and eyeballed the dessert. He rubbed his stomach and said, "You all are killing me here. I feel like I'm gonna burst."
"Well, more for us then." Chuck laughed.
"Oh, no. I'm planning on going down swinging my fork into that thing right there. Looks good." John lifted his plate and moved it to the side. Mary, Becky, and Dean got up and cleared the plates to the sink. John started scooping out the dessert onto small plates and passing them around to everyone. John took a bite of it first and sighed around the mouthful. "Yeah, I'd trade my truck for this."
Dean laughed as he came back to his seat. "Funny you should say that, Dad. Can I borrow your truck later in the week to help Cas move some stuff?"
Cas had a forkful of tiramisu and it froze right in front of his face. Shit. Becky took her seat again and asked, "What does Cas need to move?"
Cas could see the look on Dean's face shift from her to him and back. He clearly didn't know what to do. Cas decided to help then. "Uh, I was going to mention it tomorrow, but I didn't know when to bring it up." He swallowed, set his fork down, and continued, "I'm moving to the city. I got an apartment and all picked out."
Becky looked noticeably upset. "Oh." She began eating the tiramisu to cover her feelings.
John didn't seem to notice the tension as he was rather absorbed in his dessert. He responded to Dean's earlier request as if none of the obvious other issues were occurring. "You can borrow my truck. I'll need you to leave Baby with me though, 'cause your mom is working all this week out at the museum. I'm out at Bobby's off and on, and I don't want to be home bound while you are doing the moving thing."
Chuck asked, "Baby?"
"Oh, that's Dean's pet name for his car. Closest thing to a girlfriend that boy will ever have it seems." John laughed at Dean's expression and Cas nearly choked.
Dean responded, "I date plenty."
"Not that you ever bring around for your mom and I to meet." John was eyeing the tiramisu, clearly contemplating seconds. Chuck reached over and scooped out another chunk of it for him so that the decision would be out of his hands. "Why thank you, Chuck."
Mary said, "It would be nice if you brought someone home to meet us. I mean is it really too hard to do that?" Cas was doing his best to not laugh at the absolute reversal of harassment that was happening. He realized pretty quickly though that his harassment was only being delayed. Dean got up and started clearing plates from in front of everyone except for his dad.
"Look, if I ever find someone that needs to be brought home to meet you all, then I'll bring someone home to meet you all. For now, let's just say that you have met all of the people in my life that you need to meet."
"Which is none." Mary laughed.
"Which is a lengthy list of friends that are awesome."Dean set down the first set of dishes and came back for more. Cas got up to help.
"Well, at least we know Cas here," Mary waved her hand at Cas.
John mumbled around the last bite, "That's different though. I want to meet the person that is going to settle you down."
Dean came over to John and snagged the plate from him. John looked like he was planning to lick it clean. "What makes you think that I am a settling down type? Maybe I am doing exactly as I should be."
Cas took the plate from him and put it in the sink. He came back over to his chair and looked at his mom, who was rather mesmerized by the conversation. She got up and grabbed her wine glass with one hand and a wine bottle with the other. "We should head out to the porch with our wine and repose for a spell." Becky refilled Dean's glass as well, since it was closest to her.
Mary got up then too. "I'm gonna have to start brushing up on my vocabulary if we are going to be hanging around each other. I swear you all write as well as edit."
Becky laughed, "I don't have time for writing. Too much editing to do." At that exact moment both Cas and Chuck's heads tipped up in sync to look at the very interesting ceiling. Everyone noticed. "You're writing again, Chuck?"
"Got a little plot bunny in my head and had to purge it." Chuck drummed at the table like he was typing.
"Well isn't that nice. I'm slaving away on all that editing while you get to enjoy your little hobby. Clearly, I've taken on too much of your work." She did not sound angry, just spirited. Then she turned to Cas, "and when did you start writing?"
"Oh, I don't really write much. No time for that." He hoped that would be enough to move them all on, but Dean hadn't gotten the memo on how to commune with the Shurley parents yet.
"I think he might be doing the modesty thing with you there, Mrs. Shurley. He called it his project the other day." Cas just scowled at him until his mom looked back.
"Really? Have you read this so called project, Dean?"
"No, not yet anyway. I'm trying to convince him to share. Your son is stubborn," Dean added.
They all moved through the living room out to the big wrap around porch. The night air was cool but not cold. John and Mary took seats together on the porch swing with their wine glasses in hand. Becky and Chuck sat in rocking chairs next to each other. Chuck reached over with his left hand and threaded his fingers through Becky's right. Cas popped up onto the railing and pushed his back to the post. He pulled one leg up and let the other hang languidly at the side. Dean seemed at a loss at to where to sit. There was another rocker and a chair, but he pulled himself up onto the railing behind Cas. It was a funny choice, Cas thought. He could feel warmth coming from him. It was a little comforting having him at his back. Then he remembered that Dean had outed him as a writer, not to mention the whole moving secret coming out.
He drank down two gulps of wine. "So, what have you been writing, Cas?" Becky had her glass up to her lips as she asked.
"Nothing good. A romance or maybe a mystery. I'm not sure what it is yet. I just needed to get it out of my head." He looked off toward the field. The green stalks out there were high and waving in a fluid motion back and forth. The moonlight gave everything a magical glow that he felt like losing himself in.
"Tell us more," Mary said.
"Nothing to tell. I had a dream, several actually, and I typed them out. I keep waking up in the middle of the night, ever since I was in the hospital actually." He didn't want to say, ever since the surgery, because not only was it not accurate, it seemed rather distasteful. "I would rather not go into details about it. It is not anything special."
The fondness that was blanketing Mary's face also made him feel warm. He wondered what he had done to deserve it. Dean said, "You should let me read it."
"You should not be so pushy." Cas reached back a little and gave Dean a little swat.
"Boys." Mary and Becky both said at once.
Mary looked sad all of a sudden. "For a second it was almost like…" John stopped her by pulling her head over to his shoulder. He pressed a kiss into her hair.
"Crickets sure are chirping up a storm tonight," Chuck offered up.
Cas jumped on the bandwagon, "Yeah, I use to sleep out here when I was a kid just to hear them sing. It always felt like they were singing just for me. Something kinda magical about the way that all of these ugly little things gather together where we can't see them, and sing for us."
"They aren't singing for us, Cas. They are evil little plant killers, bent on our crop's destruction. The song you are hearing is their call to arms, their battle cry as they march through the fields. All of our hard work is just food for their ravenous bellies." Chuck took a breath in mid-rant. "Songs, bah. Magic, no way. They are soldiers hell bent on destruction."
Dean said in his best Braveheart impression, "You can take our songs, but you can't take our freedom to eat your crops."
"Oh God, Dean." His mom pressed her hand to her forehead. "Always with the Braveheart." They all laughed though and the tension from before drifted off into the fields. They talked of mundane things and Cas focused on Dean at his back. Eventually, the Winchesters got up as if some sort of sixth sense was telling them that it was time to go. They all walked out to the front of the house together.
Dean held out his hand to Cas as they got to the porch. Cas was confused but took it. "What are you doing? Just take the key," Dean said.
"Oh, I was confused." Cas opened up his palm and Dean opened his hand releasing the key into Cas' hand.
"It's the one for your apartment. Didn't want to be obvious about the hand off since you have some issues with that to deal with and all," Dean whispered. Cas smiled at this appreciatively.
"Thanks. I'll shoot you a text tomorrow to start setting up the move."
"I'll be waiting for it." Dean took the last two steps and joined his parents and Cas' at the car. Cas followed until he was halfway to them then stopped. The air was colder there. He found himself stopping in those spots far more frequently lately. He watched his parents waving to the truck as it slowly made its way out of the driveway. He could see Dean in the back seat staring back at them. He gave him a little wave and Dean returned it.
"'Til tomorrow then." Cas turned back to the house and made his way in, hoping that he could just wander off to bed without the prolonged conversation that he was sure his mother wanted to have.
He had actually managed to successfully avoid the conversation. He was pretty sure that the avoidance was made possible by his father. The whole way that he seemed to move her as they came into the house, coupled with his lips pressed to her ear whispering, most definitely had something to do with him being able to head straight to his room. He closed the door and stripped off his layers. He pulled out a pair of sweats and a loose fitting t-shirt.
He was in the midst of getting dressed when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. Dean's name was on the screen. He opened the message. Sorry about spilling your secrets.
He finished getting dressed and looked at the message again. You didn't know. I could have mentioned it.
Dean replied almost immediately. Still sorry. Also, sorry about just the whole weirdness with my dad, and being confusing.
Cas wasn't sure what to make of that. Was he referring to the whole Dean needs to settle down with someone conversation? Best to just ask. Don't know what you are talking about. Explain.
There was a long pause. It was actually quite long by Dean's standards. One minute, two minutes, three minutes, and Cas was about to give up. He set the phone down and started pulling back the covers when the phone buzzed. He got into bed and turned out the lights. He picked up the phone and went to Dean's message. Guess it wasn't a big deal to you then, like it was to me. See you tomorrow.
Well, okay then. He debated replying with some comment that would draw out the communication, but he really was tired. So he set down the phone and fell into a quick sleep. There was a cold draft in the room that blew over him as his mind began to swim into unconsciousness and dreams.
This dream began differently than the others. The others began in the highrise and usually within a specific office, Sam's office. This time, though, he was in Dean's room looking at the wall of clippings. Sam stood there looking at the board. "He's wrong. He's looking for some serial arsonist, but there isn't a pattern." It was the first time that Sam had spoken in a way that was seemingly to him. Ruby came over to them then, passing right through Cas. Sam was a flicker of near transparency to her very solid essence.
"There's always a pattern. Dean's been doing this sort of thing for ages. He'll figure out whether or not I'm right." Ruby looked at the pattern of red pins, running her hand over the heads of them. "It'll make a difference on the claims that are being made. I mean if I could prove that the guy is setting fires to make the claims, then the company doesn't have to pay him, plus I look like a million bucks."
"You already look like a million bucks." Sam pulled her into a kiss. Cas turned to the wall and noticed that it was different from when he saw it before. The clippings weren't about Sam's death. They were about some family that lost all of their land and home over on the edge of town. There were fewer pins too. This was a whole different investigation.
Sam and Ruby moved out to the living room where Dean was fully invested in a video game. He was leaning forward in one of his chairs, controller in hand. Sam plopped down in the one next to him and Ruby got some paperwork from the table. She came over and sat on Sam's lap. "Here sign these so I can get them turned in tomorrow."
"Sure, what are they again?" Sam was already picking up the second controller.
"It's for our insurance stuff. It's so that when we get married I cover you and you cover me. Of course, I don't plan to die and you best not either, but I want us to be able to protect each other." Dean glanced over at Ruby while she was talking and then went back to the game.
Sam took the pen that she offered and signed without hesitation or even looking. She turned the pages and he signed. It was almost an unconscious series of actions on his part.
Ruby turned from Sam then, with her stack of insurance papers and her lip curled up into a half grin. She set them in a box that was sitting on the table. "You thinking pizza for tonight?" Dean asked, not breaking his gaze with the game.
"Sounds good to me. Ruby?" Sam looked over at her.
"Yeah, I'll go pick some up. You boys stay put." She smiled at Sam who beckoned her over. They kissed and she slipped out of the apartment a moment later.
"Things going okay with you two?" Dean asked.
"Things are great. Why?" They kept playing, but Sam glanced over at Dean.
"She just seems tense. Figured with the wedding creeping up on you two, you both must have a lot on your plates."
"Yeah, she has been a little more tense lately, but nothing too weird. Like I don't think that she is having second thoughts or anything." Sam gave up on the game and set his controller down when his character died.
"She's worried about work stuff," Dean said as he set down his controller.
"Yeah, she won't talk about it. She blows me off when I try to go there. Something happened though and it is shaking her up a bit. I need to try to force the conversation, I think." Sam wiped his hands on his jeans. "I'm sure it'll be fine. She just takes her job seriously. She's been spending a lot of time there. She's giving me a run for my money on late shifts, that's for sure."
"Hmm." Dean looked like he wanted to say something more, but he didn't. He looked off past Sam to the door, and suddenly Cas felt himself getting pulled back from the scene. He was back in the office building. He ran to the door. The fire was in the halls. He could feel the heat blistering his skin. He tried to get out through the stairwell, but the flames were already there. He was coughing now. He ran for the other end of the hall and could not get down the stairwell there either. His heart was racing.
Time, time, time. He knew that he was running out of it. He fell to his knees and looked back at the path that he had just run down. Maybe a window. There was a fire extinguisher in the wall recess. He knocked out the cover and grabbed it. He began spraying the flames nearest to him. He made his way to the end of the hall with the window and used the butt end of the fire extinguisher to break the glass. He was coughing heavily now. He summoned up all of his energy to smash the window. It shattered but was still in place. Safety glass. He kept pushing the extinguisher into the glass. The window finally crumpled out in a sheet. The crisp night air rushed in on him, cool and smoke-free. He could hear the sirens screaming out in the night. There were people down below, looking up at the building. He yelled down to them, but everything was a hollow echo. Cas felt the heat behind him as it roared into greater life. The fire was being drawn to the window. He gulped down more air, not sure what to do next. Suddenly, there was a blast like a gas main had blown.
He jerked upright. He shook in the bed that should have been warm but was instead bitterly cold. He got up and put on his slippers and bathrobe. He made his way out of the room and to his office. He opened his laptop and began typing the story that was fragments and images in his mind. He worked through the details, trying to flesh out the connections between the fragments. There would be more dialogue. There had to be. He felt his body grow colder. He almost felt like he was not typing anymore, but instead he was watching himself type out the story. It was surreal.
Time passed like that. It wasn't until the eerie glow of early dawn light penetrated the room that he seemed to come back to himself. He settled his head down on the desk in front of the keyboard and closed his eyes. He fell asleep like buzz of his phone at 8:30 woke him the second time. Everything ached. He stretched back up into an upright position and flipped over his phone. He hadn't even remembered carrying it down to the office the night before.
We should go to the beach today. I already messaged Dean. He is down. Charlie's message drew him back into a fuller state of consciousness.
The next message was from Dean. Dude, Charlie and I want you to wake up and go to the beach with us. WAKE UP.
Cas laughed at Dean's message and pulled himself out of the seat by sheer force of will. He was not going to be nearly awake enough to do anything, but he certainly wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to go to the beach with Dean and Charlie. After all, there might be occasions for people watching, and some of those people might be attractive, and Cas wasn't dead, so…
He stopped as he reached the door to the office and raised a hand to his chest. He could feel beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, the scar that was running over nearly the entirety of his chest. He shuddered at the thought that anyone would see it. He walked back to the main house, thinking that maybe there would be something that he could wear that might be beach appropriate while at the same time keeping him covered.
When he entered the house, the glorious scent of coffee greeted him. He walked to the kitchen as if he were being lead by his nose. No one was there, but the coffee pot was full. There was a note on the counter where he would normally stand while fixing up his mug. His dad knew him well. Mom and I are heading into the city to meet with Michael. You weren't in your room, but we saw the light on in the office and didn't want to bother you. We'll let Michael know that you were already burning through Lucy's manuscript. There was a smiley face drawn next to that. Feel free to use the convertible if you need it. Mom wanted to take her car, since mine is apparently too 'mid-life crisis' or something like that.
-Dad
Cas made quick work of the coffee and bounded up the stairs. He felt energetic, now, despite having felt like Hell just a bit ago. He began rummaging through his drawers. He found board shorts that looked nice. He stripped down and pulled them on. He started looking for a high necked tank top that he could wear with it. Finding none, he went with a t-shirt instead. He hoped that it wouldn't seem weird to anyone. He did not plan to shed it even if he went in the water. He found some beach towels and flipflops in the hall closet and felt like he was plenty ready.
Well? Are you awake yet? Dean again.
Cas realized now that he hadn't confirmed a thing with either of them. So sorry. I am on my way now. Should I pick you up first and then Charlie?
Me first. She's closer to the beach. I have lunch already made, so you don't need to bring food.
Nice. I'll be there in maybe 40 minutes.
I'll be on the curb waiting.
Cas tossed his towel unceremoniously into the back seat. He climbed into the driver's seat and was out on the road with only the slightest peel of gravel in his wake. While he drove, Cas thought about the dream and the weirdness with the writing. He decided that he needed to call Missouri. He needed to tell someone what was happening and not fear the judgement that would lurk in their eyes. Most people would think he was crazy. He was pretty sure that Missouri understood. She had seemed to understand back at the hospital. He was hoping that even just talking about it all would be enough to quiet his mind.
Eventually, he pulled up to the curb outside of Dean's place. True to his word, Dean was sitting on the steps in his so casual beachwear with a green cooler clutched in his hand. He also had a towel draped over his shoulder and Cas found himself transfixed by the sight of him as he strolled casually over to the car. He had on boardshorts much like Cas' only red. He was also wearing a long white, loose fitting tank top with virtually no sides. This afforded Cas a view of the muscles that were a part of the Dean Winchester landscape, at least along his side. This portion was even more visible as Dean lifted the cooler over the door and into the back seat.
"Ya acting like ya saw a ghost, Cas." Dean snapped his fingers in front of him as he opened the passenger side door. "You okay?"
Cas quickly snapped out of his daze and replied, "Yeah, I had a horrible night's sleep, and then some friends of mine started texting me at ass o'clock in the morning."
"You know you love it." Dean waved his hands and added, "Well, go on. Charlie's waiting."
"Wow, you really like the beach."
"I can't even remember the last time that I went, but yeah, I do. Sand between my toes, ice cold beer in my hand, and visions of the local wildlife to occupy my mind with. What's not to like?"
"Local wildlife, huh?" Cas raised an eyebrow to him as he pulled away from the curb and headed off to Charlie's.
"Yeah, no better place to gaze upon the various half naked forms. You gotta learn to appreciate the finer things in life, Cas. The beach is a good place to start." Dean reached over and punched him lightly on the shoulder.
Cas was feeling something like a runner's high as they approached Charlie's house. Dean was already texting her as they turned the corner. "When did you two exchange information? I must have missed the bonding."
"Oh, we took care of the phone thing while you were wandering solo at Clausen's the other day."
They pulled to the curb and Charlie was already bombing toward the car. Dean got out and she hugged him. He actually hugged her back and then she got in. "I see that you have learned the art of hugging back," Cas said around a smile.
"I always knew how, I just wasn't expecting one from you. Plus, I eventually got with the program."
"So, are we gonna talk about hugging and feelings or are we gonna get our beach on?" Charlie leaned into the front seat as she asked.
"Hugging and feelings talk, Dean?" Cas smirked.
"Uh, no. Local wildlife is calling. I hear their half naked bodies from here." Dean put his seatbelt back on and Cas headed off to the beach.
Is it possible to have too much of a good thing? Cas had contemplated that question several times during the course of the day. There were miles of white sand and little lake waves lapping at the shore. He had thrown down his towel along with Dean and Charlie. They each stripped down to the bare essentials, which for Dean involved just taking off his top. Charlie had to remove a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to reveal a rather modest one piece.
"I was sure that there would be a bikini under there." Dean waggled his eyebrows at her.
"Don't be a creeper." Charlie slugged him on the arm. She had reached back and took Cas' hand and pulled him off to the water. Neither one of them questioned his shirt or the need for him to cast it aside, to which he was grateful. They actually swam in the lake, which Cas hadn't fully expected. He had expected to bake to a red ripe crisp out on the sand, but somehow, he never thought that he would actually swim.
Dean was an aggressive swimmer. Charlie seemed to feed off of his energy. They were splashing each other and both seemed intent on nearly drowning the other. It was all quite funny until they redirected their attentions onto Cas. Dean dove at Cas and knocked him off of his feet and back into the water. He felt his butt come into contact with the soft sand once he was fully submerged. He came up for air and Charlie was cracking up. "Well, better me than you I guess."
"What, I've been holding my own against the Winchester here. You are weak and out of practice in the field of combat, Cas. You need to work on your defensive moves." Charlie sent over a playful splash.
"You were a pretty easy target," Dean said.
Cas chose that moment to dive back at Dean, catching him unaware this time. Dean fell back and went under, but he did something that Cas hadn't done when he was the victim; he grabbed Cas' waist and pulled him down with him. "Shit." Cas barely got the word out before a mouthful of water filled him. Dean's hands slipped down a little, but still held him. Dean's back hit the sand and the forward momentum that they had experienced came to a grinding halt when he ended up smashed on top of Dean beneath the water. Dean did not let him go right away, which was a little terrifying since he had not gotten a breath in before the submerging. It was also the exact opposite of terrifying since Dean was in fact pulling him close. The water was murky, but Cas was sure that he was seeing something in Dean's expression that was best described as absolutely pleased. Air was a necessity for living though, so he squirmed out of Dean's hands and surfaced. Dean followed him.
"You are a dirty fighter." Dean laughed. He took a big audible breath and stretched out of the water toward the sun. The light danced about his hair making it look like gold was woven into it.
"How so?" Cas was breathing pretty heavily.
"When you kicked off to go back to the surface, you nearly caught me in the junk."
Charlie tisked him and said, "Now, Cas don't you know the first rule about lake fight club?"
"Uh, there are no rules at lake fight club?" Cas said it more as a question.
"Except that you don't kick a man's junk or a woman's boob. Those are the rules. All else is on the table." Charlie jumped up onto his back and wrapped her legs and arms around him like the red-headed octopus that she now was. Dean splashed at them and Cas splashed him back.
Time passed like this in good natured frivolity. Eventually, they made their way back up to the towels and the meal of sandwiches and beer that Dean had packed. They ate and drank and commented quietly on the passersby. Charlie pointed out men that she thought Cas should note, and Dean pointed out women that he thought Charlie should note. After eating their fill, they laid out on the towels and basked in the warmth of the sunshine. Cas could feel the blessed warmth slowly drying his shirt. He laid on the towel in the middle. Charlie reached over and scratched his back with her nails.
Dean laid with his head turned to him and said, "You could take your shirt off, tan a little.
Cas tensed up a little. "Nah, I'm good." He saw Dean's eyes move up like he was looking past him. "What's Charlie mouthing at you?"
"Just telling him why you want to keep your shirt on," Charlie said.
He turned his face to her. "Oh, really Miss Know-it-all; why do I want to keep my shirt on?"
"Because you are afraid that all of the sexy under it will bring all the boys to the yard." She smirked at him. He just rolled his eyes at her and turned back to Dean.
"Not ready to show off the scar." He was quiet in the admission.
Dean nodded and said, "No big. I wasn't thinking." He reached over and settled his hand on Cas' arm and closed his eyes.
Cas wasn't sure what to make of it, so he closed his eyes too, and felt the loving scratch of Charlie and the anchoring touch of Dean as he tuned out everything else.